


Space Jail

by raewise



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mass Effect, Drug Addiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raewise/pseuds/raewise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin: Nick and Hancock are locked up in C-Sec jail together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space Jail

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [this post](http://toxixpumpkin.tumblr.com/post/108022477839/ridiculous-sentence-prompts)

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with  _ you _ of all people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Nicky? Breaking my heart over here. And you’re the cop, you think I like being locked up with a fucking narc like you?” Hancock snorted, leaning back on his cot. It was too hard, too cold. 

“A cop can’t be a narc, genius. A narc is someone who turns you over to the cops--I’m already--ugh, nevermind. I’m not talking to you anymore.”

Hancock examined the big door blocking their exit, humming thoughtfully to himself. If only they hadn’t taken his biotic amp away, he might’ve been able to blow that obstacle away. Though, knowing Nick, he wouldn’t get very far. The guy didn’t care about his own freedom; if he saw Hancock making a break for it he’d turn the both of them in. 

Glaring at the ceiling, Hancock rolled onto his back and stared at the flickering lights. Letting his eyes slide shut, he ignored the itch just under his skin, the way his biotics flared down his arms. He could  _ feel _ Nick’s scrutiny.

“Can you  _ calm down _ , man?” he spat, sitting back up. “I’m not going to turn you into mush or whatever.”

Nick’s robotic eyes narrowed, and Hancock could’ve sworn he heard something start whirring in the android’s body. With exposed wires and fake skin that was beginning to peel away from his metallic skeleton, Nick Valentine wasn’t a pretty sight. If Hancock didn’t know the guy so well he might’ve thought he was some sort of monster. But no, Nick was just a small town android with dreams of the big city. Or something--Hancock didn’t know much about his past and he wanted to keep it that way. C-Sec was trouble.

“You’re practically glowing, John. I’m just supposed to ignore that?”

Rolling his eyes, Hancock stood, fully facing the other man, snorting. “If I wanted to turn you into paste, I would’ve done it a long time ago, okay? And what kind of idiot would I be to kill a C-Sec officer while I’m in  _ custody _ ?” 

Nick was quiet, sighing to himself and probably thinking all that self-righteous bullshit his type were always going on about. “How’d you finally get busted, John? Dusting up in public? Getting sloppy, huh?”

Hancock really wanted to paint the walls with him, but he hated hurting people. Especially, dare he say it, good people like Nick. As annoying as he was, and as much as Hancock hated cops, Nick was one of the good ones. Every time he’d caught Hancock snorting up red sand he’d directed him to Doctor Michel, not jail. He checked up on him and his progress, didn’t blame him for setbacks. It was… appreciated, to say the least.

“No, haven’t used in a week, Nicky. That’s the problem. I flipped, plastered this merchant to the wall when he started talking about my problem. Withdrawal is tough, man. It’s like my whole body is clawing at itself and I know if I take the shit it’ll stop, but I just--God, I dunno.” He wrung his hands, feeling so exposed without his amp, without his drug. Just him and the detective locked in a bare room together. 

“Hey,” Nick said, closer now, hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, kid. You’re doing your best, and that’s just… not everyone’s as strong as you are, John. Feel good you’ve made it so long. I believe one day, maybe you can be off the shit for good. And when you are? I’ll buy you a drink. Deal?”

Hancock did not start crying. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing at them. Nodding, he asked, “What’d you do to get locked up in here with me, huh?”

Nick’s smile dropped, and he looked a bit ashamed. “Got into a brawl in the Lower Wards. But, uh, I don’t wanna bore you with that story…”

“Nick! What did you do?”

“The guy was real scum, okay? Just the worst kind of human I’ve ever seen. Drug dealer, pimp, general jackass.”

Narrowing his eyes, Hancock asked, “What was this guy’s name?”

If androids could blush then Nick would’ve looked like a damn strawberry. “Wolfgang,” he muttered, and now Hancock understood why he was embarrassed. 

That was Hancock’s dealer. 

“Nicky…” His tone was a lot less irritating than Hancock had desired, and a lot more awed. 

“I broke his leg, John,” Nick admitted, sounding so disappointed in himself. “I told him to quit selling to you, and he threatened to lace your next batch if I squealed, and I just… lost it. I’ve never done something like that before, hurt an unarmed civilian.”

Hancock said nothing for a beat, then: “Thank you, Nick. I appreciate you looking out for me. I don’t really approve of the way you went about it, but… Hey, how about this: when we get out of here we go catch a vid and we can, you know, talk. As long as you promise not to break  _ my _ legs,” Hancock offered, smiling good-naturedly.

“You asking me on a date, John?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Nick snickered into his exposed hand, metal click-clacking against his face. “Sure, kid. I might just take you up on that offer.”

Maybe being stuck in space jail wasn't so bad, not if he was locked up with his favourite detective.

  
  
  



End file.
